All Talk

Fuck it. You always say you love me. And yet somehow I always end up a writhing mess on my cold, hard floor.

I feel like hell again. My head won’t stop pounding and I’m feeling hopeless. I waited for the call you promised. Sitting on the floor next to the phone, jumping at every ring. But it wasn’t you until two in the morning. You told me you were wasted and needed to sleep. I love you; I’ll call you in the morning. That’s what you told me.

Bad day again. I miss you like hell. You call and I cry about life. I yell at you for not being there. You tell me you love me, and to take a nap. That everything will be okay if I just get some sleep.

I love you doesn’t wipe away my tears when I’m full of despair. It doesn’t replace your hand erasing the icy drops from my flushed cheeks.

Quit fucking telling me… and just love me.